


Three Little Words

by losingwords



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, and guess how it turned out, in which i tried to narrate a labor and be romantic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-18
Updated: 2012-11-18
Packaged: 2017-12-24 14:13:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/940940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/losingwords/pseuds/losingwords
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are a few occurrences in life that can make you realize the most amazing things.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Three Little Words

**Author's Note:**

> This is a gift for Alys and was written for her during the hpfanfictionprompt's fic exchange on tumblr based on the prompt "Draco/Astoria: Draco realizes that he actually loves Astoria. It was not just a marriage of convenience. He loved her all the time and didn't even know it".
> 
> It is my first time writing this pairing – which may or may not explain if they end up being a little bit too ooc. I hope you'll like it! Either way, let me know what you think!
> 
> P.s: English is not my first language and this wasn't betaed, so, please, let me know if any of you see excruciating you-are-killing-the-written-word mistakes.

It starts with a scream. A gut wrenching yell that leaves him paralyzed a moment until he starts running to the other side of the building. It is a long way through the corridors of the Malfoy Manor and each passing second makes him worry a little bit more.

It is funny to think about how he spent his entire life residing in the same place and, yet, cannot claim to know the immensity of it. Some of his fellow workers, for example, who live in way smaller houses and come from not-that-wealthier families seem to know every single bit of the place they own, that they bought – from roof to floor, to the living room and the bathrooms. Draco, on the other hand, who inherited one of the best constructions of the whole United Kingdom, can barely locate himself there.

As a kid, he used to dream of the day when he would be the owner of the Manor. When he would know and carry all of its secrets. Twenty years later, it seems like nothing but a foolish impossibility. Not only because his father, Lucius Malfoy, lives under the roofs of the place – maybe not literally; it is true that the man and his wife, Narcissa Malfoy, had been travelling a lot over the past few years and found a weird fondness for their place in France, therefore leaving the Manor under Draco's care; still, while Lucius Malfoy is alive, he is the legal owner -, but mostly because the house seems to have a life of its own. Each month that goes by leaves the impression that the place has grown, changed. That something is new, is born.

When Draco Malfoy finally reaches the second room at the end of the hallway on the west wing, four more screams have escaped the dark marble door. With no hesitation, he stomps into the bedroom, only to be faced with a rather horrifying picture.

Stretched in bed is Astoria, with whom he had married three years previous, agonizing in pain and grabbing the sheets around her as hard as she can. Her skin has assumed a shade of red complete opposite to her costmary pale tone. There is a mess of hair growing out of her head and her clothes are ruffled, as if she was battling against them. On the middle of the bed, though, right between her legs is a pool of water.

The man's eyes grow twice their size at the sight in front of him and he takes a step closer at the same time that she turns her head and notices his presence. Before she can say anything – before she can make any other move -, Draco is sat at the tip of the bed, right by her rib's side.

He tries to reach for her right hand and it feels awkward. He has never been good at giving comfort and her fingers are colder than he expected.

There is a moment of silence in the room. It is agonizing, so he breaks it.

"What's-?", before he can finish the sentence, Astoria interrupts him.

"It just-", she sounds like she is losing her breath. Her voice is rough and cracks at odd places. "It just hurts."

She moves to sit up and he holds her back by their locked hands. Astoria pulls hers away and uses it as support, trying again. This time, Draco helps her. As they bring her body closer to the headboard, she lets out a wince. Automatically, he takes his hands off of her, raising them.

He barely has time to see her lips pursing and her face getting a sick kind of pale, before she starts to shudder.

"Ar- Are you  _having it_?", his voice is absolute panic.

To be honest, not only his voice. He wants to scream and pace around the house and yell at the neighbors and just ask anyone what the fuck is going to happen now.

The bright side is that his question makes Astoria outline a weak laugh.

"Call Mrs. Spienza, please"

That's it. This is the moment they have been preparing themselves for. It's now. It's going to happen.

Draco takes a last look at his wife and hurries to the fireplace in the corner of the room, throws a handful of flu powder – maybe a bit more than actually necessary – and calls loudly 'Lola Spienza, Hospital St. Mungus'.

He does not know what to think about how much his voice is shaking.

It is not long until a blonde middle-aged woman is staring back at him through the flames. He has seen her round face and squared spectacles so many times over the past few months that he is sure he could draw her just from memory.

"Mr. Malfoy, good morning, is there something wrong with you or your wife?", her voice is calm, but serious, and it brings the man back to reality. He coughs and tries to keep his own tone as expressionless as possible.

"It's Astoria. She is… I think she is going into labor."

"Contractions?", asks Mrs. Spienza.

"EVERY FIVE MINUTES", Astoria yells from the background and Draco has to admit he is mildly surprised. A few moments earlier it seemed as if she could barely breathe.

He nods, though, and Mrs. Spienza touches her spectacles.

"You should have called me earlier. I'll be there in a few."

She is gone before either can give any sort of reply.

Draco Malfoy looks at his wife only to find her eyes already on him. They shake their heads together and it is half a comfort, half a resignation. That's it. Over the past few months, the couple discussed this day several times, trying as best as they could to get ready for the arrival of a kid.

Even after the long conversations, though, Draco can't help the nervousness that fills him. Everything will change from now on.

He should be used to changes by now, has been through many of them after all. However, he can't help but wonder if it will be for good or bad. They already have a complicated dynamic. What if a kid only makes it worse?

Don't get him wrong - they both go along well. They are quite good friends.

But they can't help the awkwardness that arrives sometimes, on those moments of extreme intimacy, where they are supposed to act like a couple. It feels like too much too soon. In all honesty, it feels like they are a married pair who is still going through a date phase.

Maybe that's exactly what they are.

The first months after the marriage were almost unbearable. They were both being forced to live with a complete unknown that was now supposed to know all of their personal quirks, intimacies. Slowly, a sense of partnership began to grow between the pair. They were, after all, stuck on the same situation. Together. Who else could understand them more if not each other?

It was at that point that things started to get complicated.

Draco can't really complain of their arrangement – he has all the freedom he wants to do as he pleases -, but it sucks. It sucks to be something on a paper and a whole other thing on reality.

The worst part is that Astoria is actually  _amazing_. She is clever, but not annoyingly so. She easily discusses different topics, placing her opinions carefully in the conversation, leading everyone through her line of thought. She has this habit of surprising him all the time and it leaves him _crazy_.

Maybe if she wasn't so much like her, it would be easy for him to simply ignore her. It is hard, though, when he actually  _enjoys_  her company. When he _longs_  for coming home and being around her.

The sound of someone arriving at the fireplace downstairs is followed by one of the house elves apparating in front of him.

"Mrs. Lola Spienza has arrived, sir. She claims that Master Malfoy has called for her."

"Let her in"

The elf is gone and back again escorted by the nurse. She approaches Astoria on the bed and leans toward her as the elf disappears of the room. Mrs. Spienza starts to check his wife's vitals and concludes that everything is going as planed.

"Contractions?"

"2 minutes", Astoria replies.

Mrs. Spienza touches Astoria's forehead and smiles.

"Oh, honey, then it's time for you to have this baby"

The next minutes… Well, the next minutes are a little bit more than what Draco thinks his brain allows him to describe. The next minutes are completely terror and screams and cries and blood.

Somewhere between it, he ended up holding her hand – or should he say letting her crush his fingers? – and soothing 'Push it, push it. Shh. Shh. Just a bit more' along with Mrs. Spienza, who located herself on the foot of the bed in between Astoria's legs.

It takes a little more and a nearly heart attack on Draco's part until he can hear another cry. It is high pitched and scandalous and he wants to look at its owner, wants to know who is making such sound. He wants to…

The nurse walks to the couple and the man can see a little ball of red on her arms. She places it on Astoria's lap and then gets him back, affirming that a few exams are to be done.

Draco follows it with his eyes and he can't believe it – he may or may not feel like a troll at the moment, with his brain processing things at such a slow pace.

It's real.

That's a human being. That got out of Astoria.

_A human being that he helped to create_.

He remembers the night when it all happened. It was supposed to be just another of their 'reading meetings' – also known in his head as reading  _dates_  – when they would sit side by side at the huge library at the Manor and spend hours immersed in books. When, suddenly, they just stared at each other and their fate was doomed. Within moments they were kissing passionately, their books forgotten at the floor by their seats. They were climbing the stairs until Draco's room and he was so driven in desire at that point that he doesn't think he will ever be able to forget that night.

When their family found out about her pregnancy, the responses were varied. Mr. Greengrass just shook his head, whispering 'My little daughter…' endlessly. Mrs. Greengrass seemed unaffected by it. 'It was doomed to happen sooner or later', were her words. Daphne, his sister-in-law, hugged them both at the same time, almost shouting 'l'm gonna be an aunt! Auntie Daphne!'. His mother, Narcissa, hugged him and just nodded, smiling. 'You'll be such a great father, my Draco', she whispered in his ear – he had a couple of doubts about her statement, but decided to keep quiet about it at the time. His father, Lucius, only grinned at the couple. 'You're finally giving me an heir.'

Mrs. Spienza brings the little ball of red back and it is now wrapped in green blankets. He notices almost white hair – Malfoy hair – growing out of the baby's head. She gives it to Astoria who adjusts it in his arms and Draco thinks about how his father was wrong.

This is his heir.

This is  _their son_.

The realization overwhelms him and he is filled with the need to touch this kid. His eyes meet Astoria's in the middle of the way. He can see so many things in them. He could try to name them, but not mentioning something would be unforgivable. It suffices to say that her brown eyes seem to say all of the things he is feeling at the moment. So, instead of trying to classify it, Draco fixes this image in his head and hopes he will never forget it.

At the same time, they both swerve their eyes to the now little ball of blankets on her lap.

It is too much and, before he can control himself, he moves closer and his arms envelop them in a tight embrace.

"I love you"

It is the first time he says this to her – hell, it might be the first time he says this to  _anyone_  except for his mother.

And now that he has let the words escape his mouth, he can't seem to control them anymore because they float and fill the room as he repeats.

"I love you. I love you. I love you."


End file.
